Poem #100

I.

 

An–, GREEK: without.

–Orexis, GREEK: appetite.

It’s true enough.

I lost my hunger for just about everything:

Love, fun, people.

I hungered only for hunger,

And hunger meant control.

 

I probably would have dragged

My unfed muscles

Across a mile of

Shattered Willow pattern crockery,

Just to hit a calorie deficit.

 

And what do we see,

Depicted in said fragments?

A father’s consternation, blue.

A sister’s muted concern, white.

Friends smashed, morals smashed,

My feet blooded, a celery heart in each hand.

 

II.

 

Writing on the topic proves challenging.

Not emotionally– I’m a certified sharer–

But pragmatically.

 

My brain’s changed;

I find it hard now to pull on that old suit–

It’s a tight fit.

 

 

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